


Love is Patient, Love is Kind; Love, Please Let Me Blow Your Mind

by Songbird321



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A Mix of Universes Depending on the Prompt, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Mostly fluff though, tags added as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbird321/pseuds/Songbird321
Summary: A ridiculous rhyme I just spun to be the overarching title for this collection of fics written for Jeanmarco Month 2017. Numerous aus, some canon, lots of fluff, probably a healthy helping of angsty so your teeth don't rot. A whole lotta Jeanmarco in an itty bitty living space. That's what you'll find here.





	1. Day 1: Fate

**Author's Note:**

> This first piece is meant to fit the first prompt: Reunion/Fate. It leans towards the second one, but really doesn't fit that all that much. I tried to write something heart-rending and angsty, but that was a mess. So have this instead. Hope you enjoy!

Jean froze at the sight before him, heels back peddling on the slippery marble of the throne room floor, freshly cleaned if he had to guess. The queen had Marco on his knees in front of her, arms bound behind his back. Both turned to look at Jean as he made his grand entrance. 

“Jeanothan Dorhinobo, how kind of you to join us,” the queen said in a sickeningly charming voice. “I’m afraid the others that came with you didn’t fare as well as you.”

“What have you done to my… the merry men?” Jean asked, drawing his sword menacingly, quickly correcting himself to hide his true identity. 

“ _I’ve_ done nothing. You should be asking my knights what fate has befallen them,” the queen replied, examining her nails as if she were bored. Her eyes flicked towards the single knight standing guard in the room, her favorite, Andrew, who always seemed to be around. “Now, what could be so important that you all had to interrupt me today?”

“Your majesty, this man has done nothing wrong!” Jean pleaded, pointing towards Marco. “We’ve come to demand his release! Please!” 

“He is a thief!” the queen exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Marco. 

“I’m the thief! He’s trying to protect me!” Jean cried. He clutched his chest dramatically. “I am Robin Hood! My last name, if you rearrange the letters, spells Robin Hood.”

The queen’s eyes narrowed. “That may be so, but his crimes go far greater than yours. Begging will do you no good.”

“But your majesty…”

“Silence! I cast a binding curse on you!” the queen said snapping her wrist in Jean’s direction. The young man froze, his limbs bound together by invisible ties. 

“No!” he cried, squirming helplessly. “Knight, save me!” 

His trusted friend, Sir Andrew, didn’t move, watching the queen with expectant eyes. She shook her head. Andrew sighed. “I’m sorry, Robin. But… she’s my queen. I have to obey her orders.” The boy looked away in shame. 

“Knight,” Jean whispered hopelessly, falling to his knees despite his bindings. He looked hopelessly at Marco as the queen began to take long, slow steps around him. 

“Looks like true love couldn’t save you,” the queen drawled mockingly as Marco cowered before her. “I guess that’s because love isn’t guaranteed in life. It doesn’t have any sort of magic, does it?”

“You only say that because the Western armies killed your husband!” Marco exclaimed. The queen placed her hand on his forehead, leaning dangerously close. Marco’s face went pale with fear. 

“I say that because you are only promised two things in life: death and taxes. Not love, not happiness, but death and taxes. But you have denied me one, so I shall take the other from you,” she whispered, loud enough that Jean and Andrew could hear. 

“No,” Jean whispered. Andrew continued to examine the floor, unable to watch. 

“Diana, it doesn’t have to be this way,” Marco begged, staring the queen straight in the eye. “The law is wrong. We can change it. Bob would want you to change it instead of taking an innocent life.”

Queen Diana shook her head, almost sad, but not nearly enough. “The law stands and it is time for you to meet your fate.” She drew back just enough to draw the sword from the sheath strapped around her waist. The queen leaned closer, gently whispering: “You chose your destiny by not paying your taxes.”

Jean screamed as Diana plunged her sword through Marco’s chest. The freckled brunette gasped, meeting Diana’s eyes with a look of betrayal as he fell to the ground. Andrew turned away with a choked sob. Diana gave a single laugh, pulling her sword from Marco’s chest, and stepping away from the soon-to-be-dead man’s body. 

“As Marco lays dying and Jean is unable to rush to his aid, will Queen Diana walk away victorious, or will Knight step up and be brave for once? Find out on tomorrow’s episode of Queen’s Court!” the young woman proclaimed, dropping her evil queen voice in favor of an impersonation of a classic narrator. Marco, Jean, and Andrew all joined her, and the four of them bowed as their single audience member clapped. 

“Again! Again!” Marianne cheered. “I can’t wait until next week!”

“But the storyteller is still polishing next week’s chapter to make it more exciting for you,” Marco explained, sitting up and accepting Jean’s hand to help him to his feet. “Beside, cliffhangers make everything more exciting.”

Marianne nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I just wanna know now!” 

“Do we have to get Jimmy the Wizard to curse you with some patience?” Diana joked, rushing forward and tickling her youngest sister until she squealed with delight. 

“No! Not Jimmy!” Marianne cried around her giggles. Andrew soon joined Diana in chasing Marianne around the yard, all three smiling like no tomorrow. 

“That should be illegal,” Jean said, pointing to Marco’s siblings as the brunette gave him a sidelong glance. “Only one Bodt’s aloud to smile at once. The world’s not ready for that kind of purity.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my younger siblings they can’t have fun,” Marco said, nodding his head. Jean cuffed him in the shoulder. Marco pushed him back with a “Hey, be nice. I just died!”

“No you didn’t. The queen lied; true love does exist. That’s how you’re going to come back to life next week,” Jean replied. 

Marco gasped. “Um, spoilers?”

Jean narrowed his eyes. “Sorry. Thought you’d want to be prepared when true love’s kiss knocks the life back into you.” 

Marco grinned, lacing his fingers through Jean’s. “I can’t wait.”


	2. Day 5: Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean might be a moron, but one can never go wrong with ice cream when it comes to wooing Marco Bodt. Or the time where Marco got his tonsils out and Jean decided that was the right time to confess his love for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I didn't exactly go in order with these pieces. This one corresponds with the fifth prompt: Heartsong/Healing. I ran with the healing idea, but it's way fluffier than it should be, and the healing isn't as serious or angsty as the prompt probably suggests. But I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Jean Kirschtein, contrary to popular belief, was a very anxious person. He had a number of fears that gnawed on his brain constantly, many of which he’s learned to tune out. But sometimes he let his insecurities get the better of him, like any human was apt to do. And while he could usually hide his nervousness behind sly jokes and perfectly timed smirks, Jean had a few weaknesses. 

And at least five of them had to do with Marco Bodt. Two about Marco in general. The other three of them concerning his crush on the brunette. 

Which was why standing on the Bodt’s doorstep unannounced was probably one of the most terrifying things Jean had ever done. Even though they’d been best friends for years and had walked into each other’s houses countless times before. 

And as usual, his fears were ungrounded. 

“Hello, Jean,” Mrs. Bodt greeted cheerily as she opened the door, a look of pleased surprise on her face. “How are you, dear?”

“I’m good,” Jean replied, smiling back on impulse. “How’re you?”

“I’m doing just fine. Did you stop by to see Marco?”

“Yeah. I texted Diana if it was okay if I could drop by, and she said Marco’d already had a few visitors and would love the surprise so I thought I’d come say hi. I thought he might like some ice cream, too,” Jean said, gesturing to the plastic shopping bag in his hand. 

Mrs. Bodt clicked her tongue. “Aren’t you sweet? He’ll love that!” The woman opened the door a little wider so Jean could enter. “He’s in his room. Go right on up.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Bodt,” Jean said with a smile as he entered the house, the door closing behind him as he slipped his shoes off. 

“Now I have to warn you, you’ll be doing most of the talking,” Mrs. Bodt said as she moved towards the hallway that led back to the kitchen as Jean climbed the first two steps. He paused, leaning against the banister. “It’s still painful for him to talk too much. We gave him a white board, but his fingers aren’t as fast as he’d like them to be. It can be rather funny to watch.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Jean said with a small laugh before he jogged up the stairs to the second floor. Marco’s room was at the very end of the hallway, the door cracked open. Before he could let his nerves get the better of him, Jean knocked twice before pushing the door open enough to peek in. “Anybody home?”

Marco dropped the book he was reading, perking up at the sound of Jean’s voice. The brightest smile lit up his face at the sight of his best friend, and Jean felt a smile spread across his own face as his heart skipped a beat or two. Marco waved excitedly before diving for the dry erase board sitting next to him on his nightstand, uncapping the marker and writing furiously. Jean’s smile widened. 

Marco turned the board back to Jean. The fair-haired boy cocked his head to the side, eyebrows wrinkling. “You can’t talk, but you’re hoppy to see me?” Marco shook his head and tapped the board where the ‘a’ was supposed to be. “That’s an o, dude.” Marco shook his head again, flipping the board and drawing a capital A over the sloppy lowercase one. “Oh, you’re _happy_ to see me.” Marco rolled his eyes. 

“Hey, don’t be sassy with me, now. I have the right to withhold my gifts from the outside world,” Jean warned, revealing his shopping bag. Marco’s forehead wrinkled curiously as he pointed to the bag. Jean smirked. “You didn’t know ice cream was on the line did you?”

Marco’s eyebrows shot up, his face lighting up a new. He opened his mouth to say something but Jean shook his head. “Don’t do that. You’ll regret it.” Marco snapped his lips shut and pointed affirmatively at the fair-haired boy, silently thanking him for saving him the pain of his oversight. 

Jean smiled at the gesture before moving closer to the bed, rummaging through his bag. “So, I wasn’t sure exactly what you could eat, so I just got you plain vanilla for now. But I also brought over a thing of mint chocolate chip that you can put in the freezer and save for when it’s safer to eat,” he said as he gracefully fell onto the bed by Marco’s legs. He pulled the pint of vanilla from his bag and handed it over, tossing a plastic spoon after it. 

After catching the spoon, Marco mouthed a _thank you_ that Jean replied to with his own silent _you’re welcome_. The brunette nodded towards the bag, questioning with his eyes. “I got cookie dough for me.” Marco nodded his approval. Jean watched as Marco opened his ice cream before setting about opening his own. “You’re probably curious about the outside world?”

Marco nodded as he dug his spoon into his ice cream, pulling out a decent-sized scoop and popping it into his mouth, careful not to spill any on his bed. A sideways grin grew on Jean’s lips at the charm of the gesture. “They haven’t given you ice cream yet, have they?” 

Marco shook his head, his eyebrows narrowing angrily to show how he felt about that. Jean laughed, shaking his head in reply. “You’re ridiculous.” Marco reached for his marker. 

**I’m adorable.**

_That too,_ Jean thought to himself, simply rolling his eyes on the outside as he dug around his own ice cream container for a piece of cookie dough. “So the outside world?” Marco nodded, encouraging him to go on. “Nothing’s really changed since you’ve been out. No major tests or projects in school, just the usual homework that Armin’s been bringing to you?” Marco nodded affirmatively, nodding towards his desk where said homework sat. Jean nodded his own approval, secretly still bitter that Armin had gotten homework detail just because he was Marco’s neighbor. 

“As for the squad, that’s just the usual drama too,” Jean continued, trying to ignore the little, gleeful smile on Marco’s face with each bite of the ice cream. “Ymir and Reiner have been having their usual battle of wits. I think Sasha made you a card that she’s having everyone sign. They had Connie stand in for your show choir solo but that had to be a joke cause he certainly wasn’t taking it seriously. There’s a video of that somewhere. Eren’s still an idiot…” Marco rolled his eyes and Jean grinned. “Kidding. Kind of.” 

Marco shook his head with a ‘what are we gonna do with you’ expression no his face. Jean gave an overdramatic shrug in reply. Marco smiled. Jean’s heart skipped another beat. 

“So what does it feel like to not have tonsils?” Jean asked quickly, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Marco shrugged, setting his ice cream down to grab the white board. Jean watched as he wrote. 

**A lot less painful than before, but overall, not much of a difference.**

Jean nodded. “No singing like when you lost your wisdom teeth?” 

Marco narrowed his eyes at Jean as he shook his head. He angrily gestured as his currently useless throat (or maybe vocal chords, Jean couldn’t tell,) before angrily erasing the white board and writing a new message. 

**At least I didn’t cry about losing my wisdom when I got mine out!**

Jean clicked his tongue, shifting defensively. “Those were really strong anesthetics, okay?” Marco rolled his eyes. “I’m serious! While hopped up on pain meds, I thought your wisdom teeth were where your wisdom was stored. That’s not that bad. It actually makes some kind of sense.” Marco held up his hands defensively reaching back for his ice cream. Jean shook his head, unwilling to push the point further. He watched the smile bloom once again on Marco’s face as he ate another spoonful of ice cream. There were few things in this world as pure as Marco Bodt with ice cream. 

And maybe it was that thought that spurred Jean to do the thing that had scared him so badly on the porch. Or maybe he did it because he was a moron. He wasn’t sure at the time, or even after what did it. But he knew immediately after seeing that happy little grin that he had to say something before it was too late. 

“Hey, Marco,” Jean said, idly digging his spoon into his ice cream. Marco cocked his head to the side, encouraging him to go on. “I do have something interesting to tell you. I’ve wanted to say it for a while but… I don’t know. It never felt right until right now.” Marco’s forehead wrinkled in thought, but he nodded reassuringly. Jean sighed, looking down at his ice cream. “Marco I… I like you. As more than just a friend. I mean, of course I like you as a friend, you’re my best friend. But I think I like you more than that cause whenever I see you, I get so nervous, and your smile just makes my heart feel warm and when we’re together the world just seems so much brighter and happier and… I don’t know if that’s love, but I think that sounds about right, so I guess I’m saying I might be in love with you and yeah.”

Cheeks burning, Jean looked up from his ice cream. Marco blinked once, twice, mouth agape. His lips moved, like he was trying to process everything Jean had just said. Jean just stared back, feeling all sorts of exposed and embarrassed. It wasn’t until Marco inhaled as sharply as he always did before an argument that Jean reacted, reaching forward helplessly as he exclaimed, “No! Don’t talk! You aren’t supposed to talk yet!”

Marco blinked, mouthing _What do you mean you think you’re in love with me?_

Jean swallowed hard, setting his ice cream down on the bedside table and readjusting himself to better face Marco. “I think I would like to date you. If that’s okay. And something you’d want to do.”

Marco blinked again, face blank. He set his ice cream down and picked up his white board. He wrote, slower than before. Jean had never felt so nervous in his entire life. 

Marco turned the board around. **Jean. I’ve been waiting for you to say this for about a year. Why’d you have to wait till I couldn’t physically tell you yes?**

Jean read the board over twice, nodding in understanding. He met Marco’s eyes. “Because I’m a moron?” he guessed. Marco shrugged. Nodded. Then reached over and kissed Jean’s cheek. 

Jean could’ve died then and been totally fine with it.


	3. Marco's Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco almost forgets his own birthday. His friends don't let that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost track of what day this is in the official line up, so from now on they'll be titled by theme. Here's the entry for our freckled angel's birthday!

Marco Bodt felt that it was safe to say that he hadn’t felt this awful in years. Yes, he’d been sick multiple times within that given time span, but it hadn’t been like this. He’d still been able to go to class, to talk to his friends, to move. This time was different. He’d been down with a high fever for five days, with a throat so sore he’d lost his voice, aches and chills that made moving difficult, and the irritating inability to breathe through his nose. He hadn’t been out of bed for more than fifteen minutes total over the past five days. This flu was absolutely kicking his butt.

And the worst part of it was that it was the middle of June. It was summer. No one got sick in the summer; it just didn’t happen. Or at least it didn’t happen unless you were Marco Bodt and the universe seemed to have some of kind of half-baked vengeance against you. Lying in bed, bemoaning the fact that he was conscious, Marco stared blankly at the wall, wondering what being healthy was like since it had been way too long for him to remember. Jean had told him that being sick also made him incredibly dramatic, but Marco begged to differ. 

“Marco?” Jean’s voice asked over the creak of the door, interrupting Marco’s hazy thoughts. The brunette craned his neck out from under the covers as he felt the side of the bed depress with Jean’s weight. His boyfriend smiled down at him, running a cool hand through his hair. “How ya feelin’?”

“Awful,” Marco groaned, sniffling pathetically. “Can you make it stop?” 

“I’m sorry, honey,” Jean replied. “But maybe you’d feel better if you eat something. I could make soup if you wanted.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Marco said. “Jean, you’re the best.”

Jean shrugged, a sideways smile pulling at his lips. “I know. So, how about you come out and crash on the couch for a bit, and…”

“Can I just stay in here?” Marco asked, almost hating the whine in his voice. But the wave of dizziness that hit with just the thought of moving was enough to get him over it. “Please?” The fair-haired boy sighed before shaking his head.

“I think it would be good for you to try to get up and move around a little,” Jean said with a bittersweet smile. “And it’s lonely out there without you.”

Marco felt his heart break a little. “Really?” Jean nodded. “Okay. You win.” He pushed himself into a sitting position. “But only because I love you.” 

“I love you too, and wouldn’t make you do this if I didn’t,” Jean said, smiling as he helped Marco get to his feet. “And I promise, you won’t regret this.”

Marco frowned as he let Jean lead him to the door. “What does that mean…?”

“SURPRISE!”

The freckled boy nearly jumped back into the wall at the noise. Suddenly, right before his very eyes, all of his closest friends appeared in the apartment. Ymir and Krista, Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, and of course Sasha and Connie were all gathered in their tiny kitchen, grinning like a bunch of fools. A sign that read ‘Happy Birthday Marco’ was hung from the ceiling over all of their heads. A smile broke out on the sick boy’s lips. 

“What? What is this?” he stuttered with a small laugh. 

“Happy birthday!” Connie called, throwing his arms in the air. Marco’s eyes widened. It was his birthday, wasn’t it? 

“We were planning to surprise you tonight at Sasha and Connie’s, but when you got sick, Jean suggested that we move the party here,” Armin said with a huge smile on his face. 

“And don’t worry, we knew you probably wouldn’t want to do too much, so we brought some classics,” Reiner said, showcasing a number of DVD cases he’d been hiding behind his back. 

“And we substituted mini cupcakes for a cake so you’d be able to eat them,” Christa added. “Cause, you know, you don’t usually want to eat a lot when you’re sick, but these are perfect and small. Sasha and I made them this morning.” 

Marco felt his heart swell at the sight of them all. He turned and threw his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” he said, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. 

Jean laughed as he accepted the hug and squeezed his boyfriend right back. “Anything for you.” Marco pulled back, smiling brightly at Jean before turning to face the others. 

“I want to hug you all, but I don’t think that would be such a great idea right now,” he said apologetically around the smile that he figured was now permanently glued to his face. 

“Aw, like we care. Get over here!” Sasha exclaimed, racing forward and enveloping Marco is a tight hug. Connie wasn’t two steps behind her, and soon everyone had followed suit. It was the best Marco had felt in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> For reference for these characters that I will use again: Marco is the oldest of four kids, with his three younger siblings being Diana (a year younger than Marco,) Andrew (three years younger,) and Marianne or Mari for short (six years younger than Marco.) Just clearing that up here so I didn't ruin the surprise up top. 
> 
> I really hope this wasn't a total disaster cause it was kinda fun to write (and based on a game I watched my own siblings and cousins play years ago that we still talk about to this day.) Stay tuned for more Jeanmarco fluff and stuff in the coming days, and here's to all the other artists participating. Can't wait to see what you all create!!! <3


End file.
